


Across the Stars

by Aegwynn



Category: Warcraft (Manga), Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft (Comics), World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2019-06-11 17:43:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15320805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aegwynn/pseuds/Aegwynn
Summary: The Burning Legion has set its sights on Earth, and the Army of the Light has plans to intercept them. But when a scouting mission gone wrong leaves King Anduin Wrynn stranded on Earth, a human woman becomes his best chance at survival. AU fic.





	1. Worlds Collide

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU fic. Context: Azeroth has pushed back the Burning Legion, but only barely and at great cost. The Legion has redirected and set their sights on other worlds with plans to return for Azeroth once they regroup. Determined to prevent other worlds from meeting destruction, the Army of the Light searches for ways to pre-empt the Legion and build alliances to stand united against the demon hordes.
> 
> This is an excuse to write Anduin romance fic with a bit more plot. :)
> 
> Spoilers for the Legion expansion and some of Battle for Azeroth as well.

It was 40 degrees outside and I was stuck sweating in traffic.

I sighed and glanced out the streetcar window, straining to see beyond the long line of cars stopped dead along Queen Street. What the hell was going on? 

I tugged uncomfortably at the neckline of my scrubs. Normally, Toronto traffic was bad, but it wasn’t this bad - moving at a speed of two inches an hour, it felt like. I thumbed through instagram on my phone and wished I were somewhere in Antarctica. I should have taken the subway. There were no traffic jams underground. And maybe it’d be a hell of a lot cooler than this sweltering streetcar. 

The streetcar was packed, which made things worse. The last thing I wanted to do was breathe in hot, humid air thick with the scent of sour body odour. I sighed and looked desperately out the window again, only to find that yes, it was already open and no, it didn’t make much of a difference. And why weren’t we moving, again?

I turned my attention back to my phone, scrolling past pictures of so many smiling faces and picturesque vacation destinations. I bet it wasn’t as hot as Molten Core when they took those wedding photos, I thought bitterly as I browsed the official pictures from Jen’s wedding. I’d wanted to attend, but I only got a few days off a year, and covering shifts in the ER was apparently more important than sharing your high school friend’s joy or spending an afternoon in gauzy dresses, drinking lemonade under lanterns that danced on the breeze. It looks so magical.

I felt a pang of regret, wondering when it would be my turn to wear a gauzy dress and throw the bouquet, but I told myself I wouldn’t let my thoughts go down that road. I was hot, I was tired, and I was fresh off a 12-hour shift. My thoughts of loneliness and dreams of finding true love could wait for bedtime, when they usually began to gnaw at me.

The streetcar finally rolled across the intersection and everyone stuck in the broken-down old thing let out a collective sigh of relief. Drops of sweat dribbled down my back as I smoothed my hair away from my face and fanned myself. I didn’t have it in me to wait much longer in this sweltering heat, and as someone pulled the stop request bell, I decided I was done - didn’t matter if I had to walk a few kilometres, didn’t matter if I had to dodge buskers or assholes who couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves, didn’t matter if I got weird stares because I had various bodily fluids on my scrubs. At least I wouldn’t be stuck with my face in someone’s armpit.

I pushed my way to the door and nearly sighed in relief as a breath of (still hot) wind greeted me the moment the doors swished open to the world beyond. I all but ran to the curb and then down a side street, pausing next to a parking garage to catch my breath and pull my water bottle out of my backpack.

…It was empty. Great. 40 degrees outside, and I was all out of water. At least I had some loose change to buy a bottle off a street vendor or something.

I sighed and leaned back against the concrete wall, slowly lowering myself to the ground. It was so damn hot, and I soon found myself peeling off my scrubs so I could start the trek home in my tank top.

But as I pulled my shirt over my head, a deafening crack echoed through the street and a rush of wind nearly bowled me over. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I slowly turned to glance up the road. What I saw should have been impossible.

A tall, silver-haired man with high, sharp cheekbones stood in the middle of the road, hand extended to help another man through what I could only describe as a shimmering, sparking portal. Behind them, the faint image of a city with tall, crystal-tipped spires shimmered, translucent and ringed with pink and purple sparks of energy. The second man stumbled as he stepped through, his dark hood falling back against his shoulders to reveal long, golden hair tied back from his face. Familiar, I thought. He looked so familiar.

I slowly got to my feet as I watched them, completely drawn in by the scene, yet unable to believe my own eyes. Their clothes were out of place; leather boots and pants, but they wore tunics and hoods instead of button-down shirts or tees. And the way they stood, the way they moved… Either they were fantastic actors shooting a movie, heading to a convention, or…

I dismissed the thought immediately as it entered my mind. They didn’t seem to notice me as I approached them, murmuring to each other in a language I did not recognise. I barely noticed that I was now in the middle of the road, staring at them boldly as they conversed. My eyes roved over the silver-haired man; as I drew closer, I realised that he looked deceptively young, if not for the deep creases that lined his forehead and his mouth. He turned, and my eyes fell upon the wooden staff strapped across his back - a wood-carved raven perched above a strip of red fabric.

Atiesh. The Greatstaff of the Guardian.

It couldn’t be.

My eyes went wide. Khadgar… It was impossible. He was fictional. He existed only as a character in World of Warcraft, my favourite online game. And yet the man standing in front of me, old but young, wielding Atiesh… No. They had to be actors in character for an event.

I opened my mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the harsh buzz of my phone as it vibrated in my pocket. The two strangers (could they be strangers if they were who I thought they were?) turned towards me in surprise as a recorded voice issued from my phone.

Emergency AlertA civil emergency in the Toronto area is causing a disruption of services. Law enforcement attention is en route. Citizens are advised to seek shelter and remain indoors until further notice.  
This is not a drill.

An emergency alert. As I looked up from my phone, the silver-haired man took one step towards me and then froze, wincing as if in pain. He stumbled backwards, eyes sharp as he looked to the golden-haired man and mumbled some nonsense words. The golden-haired man cried out, gripping his companion’s hand as he was pulled backwards as if by some sort of gravitational force. The portal flashed, bolts of lightning crackling and arcing around it, and before I understood what was happening, the grey-haired man shot purple bolts of energy from his fingertips before he was sucked back through. One bolt hit me square in the chest, knocking the wind out of me and forcing me to the ground.

I coughed, rolling over on to my stomach, but a great wind began whipping dust and debris into the air as it swept through. I covered my head as it howled in my ears. The energy in the air was palpable, and it sent adrenaline surging through my veins as every inch of me went into fight-or-flight mode. 

I didn’t have time to move before the explosion hit.

It was all I could do to curl up as the rush of air and energy bowled me over again, the force of the blast sending bits of brick, concrete, and wood flying in its wake. The heat of the detonation singed my scrubs, and the windows of nearby offices shattered, sending a rain of glass shards down on me. A scream rang out, and I didn’t know if it was my own or someone else’s, but it was deafening to the point that all else I could hear was the pounding of my pulse in my ears.

As the dust settled, a chorus of car alarms rang out, and my emergency training kicked in. My ears rang as I did a mental check - no broken bones, but those glass shards had cut me up pretty good. Vision intact after I got my bearings. Hearing intact, just temporarily damaged. I could move my limbs and digits. 

I hauled myself into a sitting position. The cars lining the street were totalled, their twisted metal frames barely recognizable if not for the melted rubber tires melded to the road beneath them. There was no sign of the portal or the grey-haired man (had it really been Khadgar?) or the source of the explosion; just a patch of blackened concrete below where the portal had been.

Then I noticed the golden-haired man lying unconscious nearby, crumpled against the curb. I scrambled over to him, brushing his hair away from his forehead as I cupped his cheek. His skin was ruddied with dirt and blood, and as I ran my hands over his back and legs, I didn’t feel signs of any visible breaks. I rolled him into the recovery position as gently as I could and checked his eyes for signs of head trauma. He was definitely out cold; his (very blue) eyes rolled back into his head, but he was breathing and his pulse was strong. I figured it was safe to try and rouse him as gently as I could.

I’d roused hundreds of patients before - patients unconscious due to trauma, patients who had fainted, patients who were coming out of anaesthesia - so I simply did as I had always done: Gently tap his cheek while speaking to him, stating my name and letting him know that I was here to help. Pinch his ear lobe to see if it elicited any response. Hold his hand to keep an eye on his pulse. And smooth his hair out of his face and tilt his head back to keep his airways clear.

He came to within minutes. His eyes fluttered open, blinking as awareness came back to him, and I found myself struck by how handsome he was, even covered in dirt and blood. I hovered over him to check his eyes again, and as that sapphire gaze focused on me, I realised that I knew those clear blue eyes and those prominent brows. 

I gasped, clasping a hand to my chest.

“You’re Anduin Wrynn,” I said breathlessly.


	2. Worlds Collide - Anduin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a failed scouting mission leaves Anduin stranded on Earth, he isn't sure what to do or whom to trust. His decision determines his survival.

Something felt _wrong_.

Anduin couldn’t decide what it was, exactly, but within moments of stepping through the portal to Earth, he felt it. It wasn’t the chaos of the city around him - the thrum of combustion engines and the thick scent of exhaust, the din of hundreds of thousands of people coming and going, the overwhelmingly bright lights that nearly outshone the sun. It wasn’t the towering buildings with their shimmering panes of glass, or the occasional stench wafting up from the sewers. But as he looked up to the sky - clear and blue, so much like Azeroth - he was very aware that he was far from home, and it unsettled him.

“…Into position, then we will gather the intelligence we need. Highness, are you listening?”

Khadgar was looking at him expectantly, but Anduin hadn’t been listening at all. He surveyed the immediate scene around them - cracked, ageing concrete, dirty brick buildings that had seen better days, and the rumble of something beneath his feet. Something _big_.

This wasn’t anything like the site they had been expecting.

“We were supposed to come through in a river valley,” Anduin said, turning his attention to Khadgar. “It would appear our calculations were wrong.” 

Khadgar frowned and looked down at the scroll in his hands, brow furrowed. “An unfortunate happenstance,” Khadgar conceded, “but according to this map, we should be somewhere near the Hudson River.”

The map fragment was old and worn, but they had treated it with care. The two of them had reviewed it hundreds of times, memorising every road, river, and elevation until they knew every bend, every town. Turalyon had warned them that Earth would be unlike Azeroth, but Anduin hadn’t expected this - a world booming under the smog of industry. Where were the forests? Where were the trees?

Well, there’s one tree, Anduin thought to himself as his eyes fell on a thin, sickly sapling on the other side of the street, surrounded by concrete.

He turned back to Khadgar. “What if we’re nowhere near our mark?” he said. And then, as Khadgar opened his mouth to protest, he added, “We’ll wait for Shaw and Sully. Why haven’t they - ”

He cut off as a voice sounded behind the two of them, startling him. He whirled around to find a young woman standing in the middle of the street, seemingly frozen in place, gawking at them.

Anduin looked to Khadgar, panic surging through his veins. They hadn’t meant to be seen. 

Khadgar himself looked like he might become ill. Anduin gripped the Archmage’s arm, opening his mouth to speak, but he cut off as Khadgar staggered back, clutching his chest. The Archmage’s pale eyes met Anduin’s, and for the first time since he had known the man, Anduin saw genuine fear in them. 

It happened so quickly that Anduin barely had time to react.

The still-shimmering portal began to crackle with dangerous energy, and as lightning sparked out from its edges, the image of Azeroth beyond began to flicker and fade. Anduin ducked as a finger of lightning struck a nearby building, sending chunks of brick flying. Then Khadgar was being pulled backwards, and Anduin cried out, reaching for him, desperately grasping for his hand. But he caught only air, and before he had time to understand what was happening, Khadgar sent a bolt of arcane energy flying for Anduin. Then the portal snapped closed in a magnificent explosion of arcane energy, and Anduin sailed through the air. 

His world went black.

He wasn’t sure how long he was out, but the wail of alarms filled his ears as he came to. His head swam. He groaned, trying to roll over, but then the pain hit him all at once - a dull ache in his ribs and the sting of flesh scraped raw. A pair of hands ran over his side, either trying to rob him or hold him still; he wasn’t sure. Either way, he fought slightly, vaguely mumbling something that he thought were words, but found he couldn’t form a sentence. 

A gentle hand brushed the hair from his face. He struggled to open his eyes, trying desperately to focus on the world around him.

“You’re Anduin Wrynn,” said a voice, and a young woman’s face came into view - the same woman who had been staring at him before the portal exploded. The sun above illuminated the hair framing her face as her wide, round eyes met his. Anduin blinked, trying to sit up, only to be hit by another wave of nausea.

The woman scrambled back a step, staring at him, dumbfounded. He eyed her warily; her strange clothes were sullied and stained in patches. Red - was that blood?

They watched each other from a few paces apart until the woman seemed to come to her senses and crawled back towards him. He winced as she ran her hands down his side again. “You’re injured,” she said, and Anduin hissed as her fingers grazed the patch of raw skin at his shoulder. He instinctively batted her hand away, but she gave him a look.

“I need you to listen to me,” she said, and Anduin froze. Then it registered: he could understand her. 

Turalyon had said that the languages of Earth were vast and varied, and not at all similar to those of Azeroth. And yet… this woman spoke Common?

It didn’t make sense, but Anduin tried to put it to the back of his mind. He had bigger things to worry about. Like being stranded very, very far from home.

“What I have to say to you is very important,” the woman continued, pressing tentatively on his ribs and his hip. Anduin made a noise of assent but winced as another wave of pain washed over him. His head lolled back against the concrete.

He needed a healer. 

“Anduin,” said the woman, gripping his shoulders. “Please listen. We don’t have much time.”

He nodded, rolling onto his back. He took a few deep breaths. Breathe through the pain, he willed himself.

The woman placed a steadying hand on his chest and looked down at him. “I don’t know if your friends will come back for you, but that explosion won’t go unnoticed,” she said. “If we do nothing, the police will be here soon, and you will be taken into questioning. And given… who you are,” she gestured, “that won’t be a good thing.” 

Anduin nodded, but his mind reeled. A siren sounded in the distance.

Surely Khadgar would open another portal soon; perhaps one that would lead Shaw and Sully through to their original location, at which time they could work on locating him. But that would take time, and if this woman was to be believed, it was time they didn’t have. He had faith in the Archmage’s abilities; and in Shaw’s indomitable, stubborn spirit, especially when he was set upon pursuing a goal. 

But they could only find him if he was still free, alive, and waiting to be found.

“You have two choices,” the woman said, pulling him back to the present. “Stay and be taken into custody, or run. With me,” she specified, rising to her feet. She held a hand out to help him up.

His eyes met hers again as they studied each other’s faces. It was insane. All of this was insane. But survival was the only thing that could get him home, and this woman was presently his best chance at staying free.

He looked up at her and took her hand, pulling himself to his feet. “Then lead the way,” he said, and the two of them began to run.


	3. Amy

I hauled ass towards the nearest subway station with Anduin in tow, mind reeling. We could easily get underground and make it out of downtown without being stopped as long as we were careful. 

I looked over at him. I could tell from the way he was running, doing his best to keep up, that a few of his ribs were likely fractured, if not completely broken. I hated asking this of him - that he push himself to save time and keep our asses out of trouble - but there was no other way.

I slowed my pace slightly. “We’ll take the subway,” I said as we ran. “It’s like the tram from Stormwind to Ironforge - underground rail cars. Keep your head down, eyes on the floor. I’ll guide you.” 

Anduin said nothing, but nodded. 

“I’ll take you somewhere safe,” I continued as the wail of a siren sounded nearby. “Once we’re out of the public eye, I’ll tell you as much as I can. Fill you in on… all of this.” I gestured to the city around us. “We’ll stick together,” I added, slowing my pace as we approached Dundas St. I placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “I’ll do what I can to make sure you have a fighting chance of getting home.”

His eyes met mine, and I tried my best to communicate my sincerity. I wasn’t good at conveying emotion, sometimes. Staying cool in a crisis might help me on the emergency room floor, but it often meant that I came across as somewhat cold. So far, Anduin seemed to trust me enough to stick with me, so that was a win.

I shifted under his gaze. “Pull your hood up,” I said, reaching across his back. “You stand out with your height and your pale hair.” He didn’t protest as I adjusted his hood over his head.

I took his hand and hauled him around the corner, dodging pedestrians waiting at the traffic light, and then headed down the steps below Dundas St. into the subway station. Out of my pocket, I took two transit tokens and prayed the transit officers were too busy to care about who passed through the station as long as they paid their fare.

“Head down,” I reminded Anduin as he glanced around. St. Patrick Station was nothing to gawk at - decades-old turnstiles and a grubby ticket booth, dirty tiles underfoot, more dirty tiles overhead - but I knew he was probably feeling serious culture shock. How could he not be curious?

I pulled us into the line of people paying their fares and kept my own head down. A quick glance around told me what I needed to know - Camera at the ticket booth. Camera over the turnstiles. I slid our transit tokens into the coin slot and guided Anduin through the barrier, turning us slightly so the transit officials couldn’t see our faces.

Down we went, another level below until we were at the tracks. I peered down the tunnel as we waited at the yellow line; no lights, yet, but I could hear the telltale rumble of the trains. 

“The subway will probably be crowded,” I said, “but I’ll need you to stay close. We’ll play it like we’re a couple. Like we’re dating, or something.” I felt stupid even saying that, but it was the best I could come up with. My cheeks flushed slightly but I shook it off. “There are cameras everywhere - think of them as watchful eyes. They watch everyone - monitor what we’re doing. Kind of like a spy.” _You sound like you’re crazy,_ I thought. But Big Brother was always watching.

Anduin nodded faintly, and I placed a gentle hand on his back as a pair of headlights appeared down the tunnel. “If you keep your head down, you’ll mostly be able to avoid the possibility of facial recognition,” I continued. “Just play it cool, and be patient. We have a while to go until we’re in the clear.”

Anduin held his hood in place as the telltale gust of wind rushed through the tunnel and the train pulled into the platform. He fell back a step, but I ushered him forward as the doors opened and people stepped off the train. I gave a quick glance around to confirm the location of the cameras (one to the left, one to the right of the doors on either side) and then guided Anduin to the middle of the car and arranged us to face the wall. 

“If we stay like this, we can avoid the cameras,” I mumbled, looping one arm around his waist and leaning against his side, his hand still clasped in mine. He winced.

“I know you’re in pain,” I continued, taking a discreet survey of the people around us. Young couple making out. Important-looking business people frowning at their phones. Most everyone’s eyes glazed over as they listened to music. “Once we make it somewhere safe, we can figure out what to do about your injuries. For now, just… hold tight.”

I felt like an idiot, trying to reassure him. My eyes wandered over the movie advertisement on the wall in front of us - another season, another Marvel movie. Airbrushed characters in uncomfortable poses looking so intense, like the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. _That has been Anduin’s life,_ I thought. Just like a movie. _Or exactly like the game you play..._

Azeroth had to fight desperately to carve out their existence in the universe, and Anduin bore the heavy mantle of leading an army in defence of their world. 

And now here he was in mine. Which could only mean that…

I didn’t want to think about that right now. So I leaned against Anduin’s shoulder as the train carriage swayed and silently willed the both of us to keep it together until I figured out what the hell to do.


	4. Anduin

Anduin steadied his legs and tried his best to sway with the movement of the tram, but every twist and turn sent him stumbling. Eventually he learned to grip the nearby pole and pray to the Light that he stayed upright. 

It was quite an effort to remain focused and aware when his ribs ached with every breath. He had half a mind to heal his own wounds and be done with it, but knew he ought to employ caution; he couldn’t risk drawing attention to himself, even if everyone else on the tram seemed distracted. They were focused intently on the small devices they held in their hands, almost to the exclusion of everything else.

It was strange, he thought. Were they not all under scrutiny? Were they not aware that their every movement was being marked? They didn’t seem bothered. Young lovers huddled in shared laughter by the doors. People in formal attire stood along the seats, frowning down at their devices. Others read books. Nearly everyone else was silent. 

Everything seemed so… normal. Relaxed, even. Far from an atmosphere in which everyone knew they were being watched. Surely that would provoke disquiet. 

But who was watching them? And how? And why would everyone simply accept it?

A sobering thought washed over him. Had his guide lied to him?

He risked a glance down at the woman lingering beside him. She stared blankly at a painting on the wall as her fingers drummed incessantly on the pole standing between them. 

He didn’t even know if he could trust her.

He didn’t even know her name.

He wanted to say something; he wasn’t sure what. Where would he even start? _‘Who are you?’ might be good. And ‘where are we going?’_

But one question begat seven more, so he eventually decided silence was best - for the time being, anyway.

The tram pitched forward and he braced himself. Even tensing slightly sent a sharp, stabbing pain through his lungs. _Breathe,_ he willed himself. _Just Breathe._

As they came to a stop, his guide stumbled into him. He let out a grunt, but even as he grimaced, he instinctively reached out to grip her shoulder to keep her from falling over. 

She looked up at him in surprise. He met her gaze, peering searchingly down at her, scanning her features for any sign of aggression or dishonesty. Sometimes it was when people were openly surprised that they betrayed hints of their true intentions.

She raised an eyebrow and looked down at his hand. He felt his cheeks flush. He was being rash. 

“Head down,” she reminded him. He eased his grip on her shoulder.

 _Don’t be ridiculous,_ he thought, and tried to centre himself. But then, _Many people have lied to your face without betraying a hint of malice. She could do the same._

Still, he found himself hoping that she wouldn’t be one of them. 

He hated this creeping sense of unease. He longed again to feel the warm, soothing comfort of the Light. It would go a long way towards helping him keep his head straight. _Perhaps the Light has trouble penetrating tunnels deep beneath the earth,_ he thought desperately, even though he knew it wasn’t true.

People shuffled past him, moving out onto the platform beyond the tram. He kept his eyes on the floor, but chanced a sidelong glance at his guide. She was openly scanning the movements of everyone coming and going, even staring some of them down. She wasn’t even trying to hide it. Perhaps at another time, it would have been disconcerting, but right now, it was amusing.

“You could be more subtle about it,” he mumbled, suppressing a smirk. It was a poor attempt at lightening the mood, but he could use a distraction, and he was growing tired of swallowing his words.

“I beg your pardon?” she said, eyes flicking over his face. 

“You’re watching everyone in this car,” Anduin continued. “I know that look. You’re trying to determine any threats and make sure we aren’t being followed.”

The woman pressed her lips into a thin line. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

He wondered if she understood that subtlety was often the key to doing just that. But she had a better chance at navigating this bustling metropolis than he did, especially without getting lost, mugged, or captured. He conceded that much.

And so they lapsed again into silence.

Still, he stayed by her side and switched trams when necessary, following her as she moved with purpose through the tiled tunnels of the underground. The stops all blended together after awhile - the only thing visible out the tram windows was dirty, blackened walls or the equally dirty platforms on which crowds of people waited to board. It was all Anduin could do to remind himself that he had only one goal: survive long enough for Khadgar to come back for him.

He hoped he had the fortitude to do that.


	5. Anduin

After what felt like an eternity, Anduin’s guide indicated that it was finally time to disembark. She laid a gentle hand on his back as the tram burst out of the dark underground and into the waning afternoon sunlight, crossing a bridge through a green river valley.

Anduin’s breathing hitched. Perhaps he and Khadgar had not been far off their mark after all.

He took in the verdant riverbanks, long and low, sloping gradually into the water. Tall trees and tangled underbrush cast long shadows in the afternoon sun. A meandering pedestrian path wound through the valley, and above it stood an aged wood and stucco building with mullioned windows, resting atop a crumbling stone foundation. Anduin would have assumed it was a mill had it not lain 50 feet from the river itself.

He allowed himself a small smile as the tram settled into the platform, and some of his weariness seemed to leave him. The station was a glass structure suspended over the valley itself, and Anduin thought this was a welcome change from the dank, dark stations buried underground. 

His guide took him by the hand and led him from the tram, past the glass and the sunlight, guiding him back into the underground. Anduin almost resisted her; he was so relieved to see the river that he didn’t want to move out of view for fear he might find himself in the thick of another concrete jungle, far from where he needed to be. His guide sensed his hesitation and paused.

“We’re almost there, I promise.” Her expression softened. “Then you can ask the millions of questions running through your head.”

She offered him a small smile. They climbed a long, narrow staircase until they found themselves at street level, and then headed north down a roadway past the mill. Anduin struggled to keep up, but refused to ask they slow their pace; time was of the essence, and he didn’t want to linger longer than they had to.

As they descended gradually into the valley, Anduin and his guide soon found themselves alone on a small bridge over the river, and Anduin took the opportunity to take in his surroundings. 

The river flowed calmly beneath them, and the valley was almost as picturesque as a painting - a willow tree trailed long fingers through the water, and aged oaks stood over the pedestrian path, leaves fluttering in the light breeze. Rushes grew in the river’s shallows, and waterfowl glided effortlessly along, carried by the current. The waters shimmered in the warm sunlight, and Anduin wondered how anyone would ever give up natural beauty like this to build unyielding structures of concrete and glass.

“There’s a waterfall upstream, if you’re into nature.”

His guide was eyeing him. He had stopped to stare without realising it. Part of him enjoyed the beauty of it all, but he mainly intended to commit every detail to memory so he could return to this place and meet Khadgar and the SI:7 operatives. He didn’t tell her that.

Instead, he said, “I don’t know your name.”

His guide blushed. “My name is Amy.”

Anduin smiled and extended a hand to her in a symbol of good will. “I am Anduin. I am pleased to meet you, Amy.”

She smiled shyly and shook his hand. “I know who you are,” she said, and Anduin wondered how that was possible. Turalyon had indicated that Azeroth and Earth hadn’t had contact for thousands of years. 

A question formed on Anduin’s lips, but intuition told him it was neither the correct time nor place.

“I’m sorry I’m being so cryptic,” Amy continued. “It’s just... “ She looked out over the water and shifted on her feet. “We should get out of the public eye,” she said. “Your situation is… unique. And there are not-so-friendly people who will be interested to find you.”

Anduin nodded. “How much farther?” he asked, rolling his shoulder. His legs felt heavy as tree trunks. _Light, guide me through this._

Amy glanced to the far side of the valley, towards what Anduin assumed were homes resting on the cliffs. “Just to the other side,” she said. Her eyes passed over his body. “Then we can take a look at your injuries.”

“Then lead the way,” Anduin said, and followed her home.


	6. Amy

“They’re in here, I swear,” I said as I rummaged through my backpack. The King of Stormwind was waiting on my porch, and I couldn’t find my damn keys. Classic Amy. 

Even though it was late afternoon, I tried to be quiet just in case creepy Annabel was home. I didn’t see her peeping through the curtains in the front window yet, so that was a good sign. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain the tall, gorgeous stranger I was bringing home when the only other people who’d ever visited me were my parents… on the day I first moved in. 

The keys were so deep in my bag that I was pretty sure they were in Narnia. I could hear them jingling, but I almost had my entire arm in my stupid backpack and still couldn’t find them. I swore and dumped my pack’s contents all over the painted, peeling wood of the porch and began sifting through the junk - surgical tape, a few pens, chapstick, my sketchbook, the hair tie I thought I’d lost, rolls of gauze, my wallet, a shit ton of loose change, and a sandwich bag full of tampons. Which landed on Anduin’s boot.

I snatched the tampons away and mumbled an apology. My cheeks burned. None of this was going like I’d imagined in any of my fangirl fantasies. There was no shining armour, glittering dress, or romantic moonlight shining on Anduin and I as we stood on balcony in cool evening air. Instead, we were standing on a rickety porch in the sweltering August heat, battered and bruised and sweating buckets.

The keys were in the hidden interior pocket where I usually kept the tampons. Go figure. 

“Finally.” I heaved a sigh of relief and held the keys up in triumph. Anduin slumped against the wall of the house, clutching his side. Sweat beaded between his furrowed brows. I had to get him inside and take a look at his injuries. 

“I don’t think anyone else is home yet,” I said as I unlocked the door. “We should be quiet, anyway. I live with other people.” 

I shouldered the door open - it always stuck in the summer heat - and motioned for Anduin to follow me. He hesitated on the threshold.

“It might look dark, but that’s only because the apartments are sectioned off,” I said. “There will be more light once we get up to my place, I promise. I’m on the third floor.”

The stairwell was small and cramped, so I moved slowly to accommodate Anduin. He was quite tall - over six feet - with broad shoulders ( _Like his father,_ I thought), so he had to carefully manoeuvre around the bend and duck to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling. He was so out of place here, in this old house. I was suddenly very aware of how the stairs creaked with every step and how the bannister wobbled if you put too much weight on it. 

“It’s just at the end of the hall,” I said as we reached the top of the stairs. “Then a few more steps up and we can relax.” I wasn’t even sure if it was possible for me to relax at this point, and I didn’t think Anduin could, either.

“You live in the attic?” Anduin asked as I unlocked the door to my apartment. Yep. I did. It was small and cramped, but it was cheap, and I got a nice view of the river out one window. I mainly only came here to sleep, so space wasn’t a necessity. 

“Yes,” I said, giving the old doorknob a good rattle. “Living space is at a premium in this city. You take what you can get.” I took a deep breath as I opened the door, expecting to be met with a refreshing rush of cool air, but instead the humidity only got worse. Apparently my a/c had broken while I was out. Again. 

The last thing I wanted to do was sweat more in Anduin’s presence, but I couldn’t help that now. 

I ushered him up the stairs ahead of me. “Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said as I reached the top of the stairs. “There’s a couch-thing on your left.” It was more of a loveseat, really - small and faded, but still comfortable. 

“This is - quaint,” said Anduin. He was trying to be gracious, but really, ‘quaint’ was a little too kind for my attic hideaway. ‘Cramped’ was more accurate. And ‘dim’. I flipped on the overhead light, which revealed all the laundry I’d left strewn across the floor of the makeshift sitting area. Whoops. I never had guests, so I didn’t worry too much about cleanliness beyond ensuring my apartment wasn’t a health hazard. 

_What do people even do with house guests, anyway?_ I thought as I looked at Anduin, who had to duck as he shuffled towards the loveseat. He was so tall, he could only stand at his full height in the centre of the room, at the height of the roof. 

My mother’s voice echoed in my head: _A good hostess always ensures her guests are comfortable and fed._ I turned to the small kitchenette to the right of the stairs and scanned the fridge and counter, trying to remember the last time I’d gone grocery shopping. Did I even have anything to feed Anduin?

The floor shuddered as Anduin dropped himself into the loveseat, still clutching his side. He laid his head back against the wall with his eyes closed. _Right,_ I reminded myself. _He’s injured._

I decided that cold water and some soda crackers might help for the time being - at least until I could go out to get something more substantial for him to eat.

“Sorry about the mess,” I said, shoving the glass of water into his hands and dipping to collect some of my clothes. “I wasn’t expecting company.” I cringed as I noticed a bra draped haphazardly over the arm of the loveseat. 

“Please,” he said, placing a gentle hand on my arm as I snatched up the bra. “I am grateful for what hospitality you can offer. You needn’t trouble yourself on my account.” Our eyes met and I was touched by the sincerity I found in his gaze. 

I nodded, but still tossed my clothes in the laundry bin. I shoved it into a corner before settling on a pillow across from Anduin. 

“I imagine you have lots of questions,” I said. I had a shit ton of questions, myself. “We should be safe here, as long as we aren’t too loud. You are free to ask whatever you like, and I will do my best to answer.”

“Thank you,” Anduin said. 

For a moment, we stared at each other in silence. I wasn’t even sure where to start. Part of me wasn’t even sure this was really happening. 

I’d read that stress could cause a psychotic break. Was that what this was? What other logical explanation could I have for the man sitting opposite me, wearing strange clothes but speaking my language even though he was supposedly from a land far away - a _fictional_ land, at that?

I let my eyes roam over him. He was lean, but powerfully built. Even under layers of dark clothing, that much was apparent. Locks of hair escaped the tie holding his hair back from his face, and beads of sweat trailed down from his temples.

He must have been sweltering in those clothes. I made a mental note to get my landlord to look at the a/c unit as soon as I could. Or throw it out the window and watch it smash into pieces on the pavement. Whichever happened first.

“You should remove your cloak and jacket,” I said. “It’s far too hot to be wearing so many layers. You don’t want to overheat.”

Anduin moved to unpin his cloak and grimaced. “I’m having some difficulty,” he said carefully. “I need a healer.”

Focus, Amy, focus. “Of course,” I said. “I’ll help you.” My mind was reeling so much that it was hard to think straight. I moved to his side and began to tend to him.

“We don’t have healers here,” I said as I gently removed his cloak and set it aside. I felt him stiffen. “That is, we don’t have healers as you know them,” I added. My fingers brushed his as he moved to unbutton his jacket and I withdrew as my cheeks flushed. “I’m kind of like a healer,” I said, easing his arm out of one sleeve and moving on to the other. “I care for the sick and help them get well.” I watched his face as I tugged his jacket out from behind him; pain as he leaned forward or rolled his shoulders. Pain whenever he had to sit up. I needed to examine him more closely.

“In order to assess your injuries, I need to get a good look at them,” I said as my eyes roamed over his chest. Beneath the cloak and jacket, he wore only a fine linen shirt, and though it was creased and torn in places and stuck to his chest with sweat, there were no bloodstains. That was a relief.

“What would you have me do?” Anduin asked. 

I couldn’t ask him to lift the shirt over his head; he didn’t have that range of movement. “I’ll have to lift your shirt and feel the skin and muscle over your ribs,” I said, bringing my eyes up to meet his. “Try to relax. I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

He nodded in response and his eyes fluttered closed as rested his head against the wall again. I took a deep breath and tugged his shirt free of his belt. My heart was pounding like crazy. _Come on, Amy,_ I chided myself. _You see hundreds of patients a day, and lots of them have been attractive. Be professional. No reason to get all a-flutter._

I lifted his shirt and tentatively ran my fingers along his stomach. He shuddered under my touch. I hesitated; a deep bruise was blooming over his hip, and as I lifted his shirt higher, I saw that the entirety of his right side was covered in varying shades of purple. My heart broke for him; I was amazed he’d made it through a thirty-minute subway ride and fifteen-minute walk to my house with bruising like this. He was no doubt in a lot of pain. 

“You’re certainly bruised,” I said, frowning. I smoothed my hand over his abdomen and began lightly prodding him with my fingers every few centimetres. He was covered in a fine sheen of sweat (who could blame him in this heat?), but it wasn’t until I had him hold his arm out and away from his side that my fingers found the injury I had been hoping I wouldn’t find. Anduin cringed and let out a cry of shock.

“I think your rib’s fractured,” I said, lowering his arm back into place. “It might be broken.” I slid my hands back down his sides just in case I’d missed anything, but that was the worst of it. I frowned; most rib injuries could be cared for at home, but I needed to monitor him to make sure he didn’t get worse.

“What does that mean?” he asked between gasps of pain. 

I folded my legs under myself and placed a reassuring hand on his. “It means that you’ll have to be gentle with yourself,” I said. “You won’t be able to do any active things like running or playing sports, and your ribs will continue to hurt when you breathe for awhile. But you’ll heal.”

“On my own?” he asked softly.

I nodded. “On your own,” I echoed. “Like I said, we don’t have healers here. We don’t have magic at all.” 

Anduin froze. His eyes went hard. “You don’t have magic?” 

I bit my bottom lip. “No,” I said slowly. “But I have some painkillers you can take every six hours or so. They’ll help dull the pain. You still shouldn’t push yourself. Rest is best.”

Anduin’s gaze moved to the ceiling and I could tell his mind was reeling. My heart ached. I had committed myself to guiding Anduin on this… whatever this was. Expedition. Reconnaissance mission. Exile. I hoped it wasn’t the last one. The least I could do was ensure he healed well enough to return home. 

Then it occurred to me. I’d been so focused that I’d completely forgotten what Anduin was. _Fictional_ Anduin, anyway, was not only a king; he was also a powerful priest.

“Wait,” I said, looking up at him again. “You’re a priest, aren’t you? Can you heal yourself?”

Anduin eyed me cautiously. “I am,” he said slowly. Then, “How do you know all this?”

He turned to study my face as I answered. “That, ” I said, “is a very long story.”

“Will you tell it to me?”

I nodded. “Let’s just say that tales of your adventures - of your world - are known by some here on Earth, “ I replied. I needed to buy myself some time to think this through. How do you explain the concept of video games to someone who probably doesn’t have a firm grasp on the concept of technology? And how the hell would I explain that this game seemed to know the details of his life?

Then I realised he hadn’t answered my other question.

“Anduin,” I said, placing my hand over his and looking up at him again. “Can you heal yourself?”

He frowned and looked away. He was silent for a long while before he answered. 

“I can’t feel the Light here,” he said, tears shimmering in his eyes. “I can’t call on it to heal me.” A muscle tensed in his jaw. “I’m afraid the Light has abandoned me.”


	7. Anduin

Anduin had been holding out hope that he was wrong. He’d told himself that his mind hadn’t been in the right place; that he’d been distracted by the chaos of this whirlwind mission gone awry. Maybe the arcane energy had displaced something, or he was so wounded and out of sorts that he simply couldn’t concentrate, and that was why he couldn’t feel the Light.

But as he stared listlessly at the ceiling, he knew he’d been lying to himself.

The Light had abandoned him, and he didn’t know why.

He blinked away tears. He didn’t want to think about what this meant - for him, for his mission, or even for this world. He took a few deep breaths and tried to summon what little strength he had to keep it together. Pain stabbed like a knife through his lungs. 

The silence that had fallen over the tiny attic room was heavy, almost unbearable. He couldn’t blame Amy for not knowing what to say. He himself had no more words to describe the void he felt, the emptiness, the silence. Silence, inside and out.

Slowly, Amy rose from his side and patted his hand. “I’ll get you something to help with the pain,” she said, and Anduin was glad. He was no stranger to pain - they had been intimately acquainted since adolescence - but the weight of the situation was pressing in on him, and he was grateful for the promise of relief.

“It’s possible that things just… work differently in this world,” Amy said as she rummaged through a cupboard. “That your magic won’t work here because we don’t have any form of magic at all. That it’s not you, or the Light, but it’s just… the way things are here.” 

She returned to Anduin’s side, offering him a small, orange pill. He stared at it for a moment. If things worked differently here, would this pill - this medicine - even help him? What if it did nothing at all? Or worse - what if it harmed him?

Amy seemed to read his mind. “I’ll be here to monitor you in case something bad happens,” she said, turning over his hand and pressing the pill into his palm. She then took his glass of water from the small table nearby and handed it to him. “Take a drink of water and swallow the pill. Within 20 minutes or so, it should take the edge off the pain.”

He had no reason to distrust her - she had only kept him safe thus far - but he still stared down at the pill in his palm and hesitated. His limbs felt heavy as lead. Still, he had to be sure. “And you’re a type of healer?” he asked, eyeing her. 

“I’m a nurse,” she said, settling on an oversized pillow again. “When people fall ill, I care for them and help bring them back to health. I’ve taken care of patients with all sorts of illnesses and injuries - even injuries like yours.”

Anduin studied her face again. It wasn’t that it was difficult to believe her; alone with him, her constitution seemed naturally affable, and she was gentle as she interacted with him. And her eyes were kind. Pained, at times, but so kind.

It was an effort to lift the pill and glass of water to his lips and drink it down, but he managed it. He slumped back against the couch and took a few shallow breaths. Now all he had to do was wait.

“Don’t avoid breathing deeply,” Amy said. “With a lung injury, it’s important to breathe through the pain. If you only take shallow breaths, you run the risk of getting an infection.”

He frowned. An infection of what? A plague?

Amy seemed to realise that he didn’t quite understand. “Fluid could build up in your lungs, and then you’ll be coughing and you’ll have greater difficulty breathing,” she continued. “So even though it hurts, I need you to practise taking deep breaths every so often, okay?”

He nodded. He didn’t want to think about getting worse. “And how long will it take me to heal naturally?” he asked. Time was, of course, of utmost concern, mainly because he didn’t know how much time he had before Khadgar came back for him, or until Shaw’s crew went through to their agreed meeting point.

“A few weeks,” Amy replied. 

Shock coursed through Anduin’s veins, hard and cold. Weeks? He didn’t have a few weeks. At best, he had a few days.

“You could heal more quickly if you take it easy,” Amy said. “It’s just… we can’t be sure. Each person heals differently. The human body is weird.”

Anduin considered this as he thought of Khadgar. Would Khadgar be able to find him even if he was nowhere near the meeting point? How could he locate him? He weighed the possibility of sharing his plans with Amy. Would she be willing to help him meet the others? To his knowledge, he, Khadgar, and the SI:7 operatives were entering this world unknown and undetected. But that was before the portal exploded - before he was cut off.

He decided to guide the conversation in a subtle way. “Will you tell me about this city?” he asked. “If I am to remain here as I heal, I should like to learn more about it all - about this world, its peoples, its stories.” 

Stories were one of Anduin’s great pleasures. He usually preferred reading, but when he fell ill, he always enjoyed it when others sat by his side and read from the great epics or histories of Azeroth. Even when he was camped far from home on the eve of battle, he loved listening to fireside tales. Dwarves, he found, often told the best stories.

“Of course,” Amy said. She was silent for a moment. Then, “What would you like to know?” 

How did one share one’s world with a foreigner when there are so many stories to tell? Anduin didn’t blame Amy for struggling to find a starting point. Still, her question gave him an opening.

“The river we crossed over on our way here,” he said. “It is the Hudson, is it not? And this city — is it New York?”

Amy frowned. “New York?” she echoed faintly. “No. This city is called Toronto, and that river is the Humber.” 

Anduin’s stomach fell. His eyes snapped to Amy, and he cringed as his muscles tensed and his heart began to pound. Somehow, it made breathing more painful. “Are we not near New York?” he asked, and he marked every detail of her response - how her brows creased as she frowned, how she tilted her head to the side as she answered him.

“No,” she said. “We are hundreds of kilometres away from there. We are in a different country, actually.” 

Khadgar had said that opening a portal was more of an art than a precise process, especially when there were no runes or beacons on the other side to triangulate their arrival location. The Council had spent weeks deliberating the decision to go through to Earth; eventually the hope of preventing the destruction of another world by the Legion’s burning blade had won out. Yet still, despite the months of preparation, despite the long, late nights of studying maps and poring over what little Titan information sources they had… they had still come out wrong.

Anduin was crestfallen. Still, he refused to give up hope. “That was where we intended to land,” he said, “but portal magic is often unpredictable and chaotic. So, now I am here, with you.”

He attempted a smile, but the pitying look Amy gave him made him uncomfortable. He hated being pitied; it reminded him of things he would rather not think about.

“I’m sorry, Anduin,” Amy said, but he knew it wasn’t her fault. After another uncomfortable silence, she added, “They’ll come back for you. I am sure of it.”

It was painful to think about, and Anduin found he did not want to dwell on the subject.

“Tell me about your country, then, Amy,” he said instead. “I would like to learn about this place I’ve landed in.”

This time, Amy did smile and she indulged him. 

They talked for what felt like hours, until night fell and the sunlight faded from the sky. It was a wonderful distraction - this world was so different from Anduin’s own, and yet, the humans here were also similar. They, too, went to war and vied for power. Their kingdoms had been ruled by Kings and Queens in centuries past, but were now ruled by governments comprised of elected officials. This fascinated Anduin - a society so engaged and informed that they desired to raise up representatives who would advocate for the interests of their communities. How did it come about? How was it effective, with the possibility of lies and deception and personal interest and gain? And was it not disruptive, changing leaders every few years? 

Their conversation meandered through discussions of history to reflections on human nature, and Amy graciously entertained Anduin’s endless questions. He found many commonalities with her, which eased his creeping sense of worry, and she was full of information about the cultures, religions, and countries of the world. He was most curious about religion, but his heart ached whenever she spoke of it; he found that he felt too raw, and his sense of emptiness was too real for him to want to learn more. He wasn’t yet prepared to face the void and how deeply it hurt.

Some time later, he found his eyelids drooping, and he yawned without meaning to, though he apologised profusely. It was then that Amy insisted he try to sleep, and she prepared a bed for him behind a partial wall. He was to remain only slightly reclined, propped up by pillows so that he could rest, but also breathe effectively. There was a window above his head - a ‘skylight’, Amy called it, though it offered no light in the darkness - and as she eased him back onto the pillows in the dim light of the room, he realised that he could see the moon. 

Only a few minutes passed before Anduin found himself drifting off to dreams of rivers and skies of endless stars.


	8. Amy/Anduin

I waited until Anduin was out cold before I crept down the stairs to get some air. My little apartment was stuffy, even with two windows open, and I just needed some space to myself. Space to think, to plan, to get my head on straight.

My chest was tight as I pushed open the back door and headed into the “backyard” (which was really just a junk heap behind the house). I couldn’t keep Anduin cooped up in my apartment, hoping that Khadgar would eventually come back for him. I thought about putting him up in a hotel, but it was risky; sooner or later, someone from the government would come for him. There were security cameras _everywhere_ in Toronto, even in shitty shops that looked like barely concealed drug dens, so I was sure that someone, somewhere had caught the portal or its aftermath on camera… which meant that it was only a matter of time before they came looking for me, too.

It was all too much. I wanted to keep Anduin safe, but I didn’t want to treat him like a prisoner. And quite frankly, I wanted to keep my own ass out of jail as well, even though I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Staying in the city was risky, but I didn’t know what else to do. Where else could I go?

I paced back and forth on the gravel, pebbles crunching under my shoes as sounds from creepy Annabel’s tv filtered out into the yard through an open window. 

_“…Explosion on St. Patrick Street. Toronto Police are hoping to speak with two individuals who were spotted near the scene at the time: A woman in her 20s with dark brown hair…”_

I froze. Fuck.

Looks like the cops made my decision for me. 

I groaned and ran my hands down my face. Did I even have any real options? If Anduin and I stayed here, creepy Annabel would likely give me up in a heartbeat if it meant she’d get some attention, and I didn’t want this to play out like some typical tv crime drama. I wasn’t going to dye my hair, or start wearing glasses, or hide myself under oversized hats, and I certainly wasn’t going to go on a car chase down the 401. But I knew that Anduin and I had to get out of the city as soon as possible, or otherwise wait for a neighbour to call the cops. And I knew just the place we could hopefully hide out for a few weeks until media buzz died down.

I sighed and looked over at my tired Ford Focus parked along the fence. I hoped Anduin would have the strength to handle a three-hour car ride. But before I broke the news to him, I had a few things I needed to pick up at the store.

———

Anduin awoke in the dark some time later and opened his eyes to see stars sparkling overhead. He wondered when he had fallen asleep outside. His eyes instinctively began searching for his favourite constellation - Elune’s Gift to Ysera - until he realised that there was only one moon in the sky. That wasn’t right; two moons watched over Azeroth - The White Lady, and the smaller Blue Child. When had he left home?

Then other things fell into focus. The bookshelf beyond his feet. The wooden rafters over his head, with a window looking out into the sky. Soft fabric under his hands. He wasn’t outside. He was in an attic.

He took a deep breath, and his heart sank as a stabbing pain brought with it the knife of memory - He was not on Azeroth. He was on another world far away. His ribs were broken, and he needed to somehow find the Hudson River Valley and meet Khadgar.

He sighed and willed his body to relax against the pillows. He turned his eyes to the skylight again and allowed them to roam the sky of unfamiliar stars. He didn’t know where Amy had gone; the apartment was quiet and still, so he knew he was alone, and a part of him was grateful for it. So much of a King’s life was to live for others - to inspire them, to guide them, to lead them. He rarely had time solely for himself; maybe the brief few moments before drifting off to sleep at night, or the quiet moments after waking before he rose to greet the day. But even when the burdens of the crown lay heavy on his shoulders, he always had the deep, warm comfort of the Light to keep him company.

He closed his eyes and tried to pass somewhere deep within himself, to search once again for any sign of the comfort that had long been his companion, but all that rose up to meet him was a yawning emptiness. 

Tears blurred his vision. Alone - he was well and truly alone. He blinked up at the sky as his tears began to fall, wet and warm, over his cheeks. His father had always told him that a king should not cry; that he must always be strong for his people. But here, Anduin thought, he had no people. Here, he had no crown, and he had no Light. He was simply… Anduin.

Footsteps creaked on the stairs and Anduin hastily wiped his eyes, silently summoning whatever strength he had to regain his composure. Amy had been nothing but kind to him, but he didn’t want to burden her with his tears.

Within moments, the overhead light flicked on, and Amy appeared in the doorway, arms full of packages. Anduin greeted her with a smile, though it felt hollow.

“Oh, good,” she said. “You’re awake.”


	9. Amy

I had to run, and I had to take Anduin with me.

It only took me minutes to come up with a basic plan - one that I hoped would keep us out of sight and out of mind for awhile, at least until Anduin healed… or until we had a better idea of what the hell to do.

But I needed to be fast, or I needed to find some way to blend in without drawing attention to myself. Blend in - it was weird to think of it that way, considering I had always thought of myself as _normal_. Smart, somewhat quiet, and kind of a workaholic, but still _normal_.

But how do you make _normal_ blend in even more?

In a crowd. An eccentric, strange, totally-off-their-rocker kind of crowd. 

So I decided to go to the only place where you could find a good portion of the city’s weirdos clustered together: Walmart.

I was anxious as fuck as I walked through the doors, so I focused on my mental checklist of “things Anduin and I will need to go rogue”: Toothbrushes. Toothpaste. Water jugs. Deodorant. Sunscreen. Toilet paper. Towels. Bug spray. Citronella candles. Some hair ties, because Anduin apparently still liked sweeping his hair back from his face in an adorable ponytail. And then I realised he’d also need clothes.

I headed for the men’s clothing area and stared blankly at the wall of generic shorts and tshirts. What kind of clothes do you buy for a king from another world? I shook my head and chuckled at the absurdity of that thought. He may be a king, but Anduin was also just a man, and I wanted him to be comfortable. Beyond that… he needed to blend in, and he needed to be clean. He couldn’t wear the same clothes every day, but he also couldn’t walk around looking like he belonged on the set of _Game of Thrones_.

I decided to go for the cheapest option: a few packages plain white tshirts, along with some tank tops and socks. I threw in a few pairs of generic shorts - light, breathable material for the humid weather - and one pair of jeans. Then I realised he’d also need shoes.

I rummaged through a bin of flip flops - all grey, navy, and black - and tried to figure out what size he’d be. I couldn’t help it; as my hands passed over sizes 11 and 12, I fought back the thoughts about dick size. I snorted. I was a warm-blooded woman, after all, and he was… gorgeous. Handsome. Beautiful. All of the above. But I told myself that this was serious business, and I was Anduin’s guide in this world, and it wasn’t considerate to be thinking about his dick when he was lying back in my apartment with broken ribs and broken dreams.

Right, then. I made an estimate based on his height and hoped for the best, and then hustled to the checkout - paying cash, of course, because I’d be damned if watching a million episodes of _Law & Order _hadn’t taught me to avoid leaving a credit card trail.__

____

* * *

Anduin was awake when I returned. He offered me a smile - bless him - and as I looked at him propped up on so many pillows, my heart ached. A part of me wished I could offer him something more than this - something more than a tiny, stuffy apartment in Toronto’s west end, and a tiny, clunky car that would have to carry us nearly four hours north.

“I’ve brought you something,” I said, laying the Walmart bags on the floor and beginning to unpack them. “We don’t know how long you’ll be staying, so I thought I’d offer you a change of clothes.” I laid the packages out along the foot of the bed and smiled at him, though when his pale eyes met mine, I felt… uncomfortable. Embarrassed. I don’t know.

“I didn’t know what size you are, so I took an educated guess,” I said, fiddling with the packages of tshirts and socks. 

When I looked back up at him, a genuine smile played on his lips. “That is very kind of you,” he said, and my stomach fluttered. God, he was attractive and charming. How lovely it was that he could be grateful for clothes as simple as these. 

Then he winced and shifted against the pillows, and it broke my reverie. My stomach fell at the thought that I had to ask so much of him. He had so much to deal with - such a chaotic whirlwind of survival and responsibility - and I hated that I couldn’t allow him even a moment more of rest.

“I have something to tell you,” I said softly, running a finger along the duvet at the foot of the bed. I could feel his eyes on me again, but I couldn’t look at him. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I was grateful that my shitty overhead light didn’t actually light the room effectively. I was a _woman_ with a _job_ and a _life_ but I still couldn’t look an attractive man in the eye without blushing like a schoolgirl. 

I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. “Anduin, I’m sorry, but we can’t stay here,” I said. 

“What do you mean?” he asked. His tone was even, but I could sense his unease. 

I slowly dragged my eyes up to meet his. “The police are looking for us.” I took a few steps closer to him and settled on the edge of the mattress, absently drumming my fingers on the duvet.

“I assume they are your city guard,” he said. He didn’t miss a beat.

I nodded. “The point is, you don’t want to be brought in for questioning,” I said. “If they find you, they’ll detain you. It will only get worse from there. And if you’re in custody, that makes it that much harder for you to get home.” Not that Earth defences had any concrete way to disrupt or block arcane energy. We didn’t even know it existed. But I knew one thing: if the police got their hands on Anduin, it would only be a matter of time before the government stepped in. And once the government stepped in, Anduin wouldn't likely see the light of day for a very long time.

Anduin frowned. The crease between his eyes as he furrowed his brow seemed far too pronounced for a man in his twenties, and the dark shadows beneath his eyes made him look far older than he was. I hated seeing him look so weary. 

“I must trust you,” he said decisively. “For you know the ways of this world, and I do not.” 

It meant a lot to me that he was willing to trust me, even if he didn’t really have a choice. I silently begged the universe for the strength to be worthy of that trust. 

“My family has a cottage up north,” I said, finally looking him in the eye. “If we can travel a few hours north, we will be safe there. It’s quiet - isolated. A good place for you to rest.” My hand found his, and I gently clasped it. “It will give us a fighting chance to find out how to reconnect with your friends.”

He nodded, and his features hardened slightly. “Then let us make haste, and not waste another moment.”

I offered him a smile and twirled my car keys around a finger.

“So… you’ve ridden in a carriage before, right?” I asked. “Because the modern version of Earth carriages is pretty special.”


	10. Anduin/Amy

Chapter 10

Anduin stared out the car window with a vague sense of dread as he watched the city lights shimmer past. Amy had propped a pillow under his right shoulder so he could rest his head on it and watch the world go by. "The lights are beautiful when you see them from afar," she'd said, but these electric lights weren't the gas lamps of Stormwind or the glimmering crystals of the Netherlight Temple, and Anduin longed for home.

He was comfortable with all the pillows Amy had offered him, at least. She had set him up in the back seat of her car and refused to leave the driveway until he told her that he was nicely settled in. 

A ghost of a smile crossed his lips. He was grateful for every kindness Amy showed him, but the restless anticipation of not knowing when and how he would be able to reconnect with Khadgar and the rest of the expedition team left him uneasy. 

"It is difficult to see the stars here," he said, staring out at the vast, inky blackness of the sky that stretched out before them. "Are your stars not bright?"

"It's the city lights," Amy said from the driver's seat. Anduin glanced at the mirror above Amy's head, and her hazel eyes darted up to meet his for a brief second. "The city's so bright that it drowns out the stars."

"How sad," Anduin said. Watching the stars over Stormwind wasn't difficult if he climbed the Keep's highest tower, but nothing compared to the stars over Kun-lai summit. A faint memory stirred - of fireflies and hot springs and cold nights spent watching the moonlight glitter on the snow.

“How are you feeling?” 

Amy’s voice pulled him from the mists of Pandaria and back to the present. He fought the rising heat in his cheeks, even though he hadn’t done anything wrong - except let his mind wander down a path he had closed off years ago. He didn’t want to think about it.

Anduin considered Amy’s question for a moment. “While I still feel pain, it is as though the aura has dulled,” he said. “I am grateful for that much.”

He laid his head back against the pillow again. He knew that only a few hours of questions would never suffice to learn all the things he wanted to know. He still had so much more to to see. To experience.

“This medicine,” he said, absently running a hand over his chest. “How does it work?

“Well….” Amy paused. “Think of it like this: Trauma - like hitting pavement hard enough to break a rib - causes your skin and muscles to become inflamed. Bruising is bleeding deep within the muscle. The medicine I gave you tries to suppress the inflammation and reduce the swelling and pain.”

“But the medicine does not heal?”

“No,” said Amy slowly.

Anduin frowned. “How horrible that you here on Earth can only heal slowly, or not at all,” he said. In Azeroth, broken bones could be healed within minutes, even if they were delicate for a time thereafter. To have to wait hours - days, weeks - and to spend those hours in varying levels of pain was incomprehensible.

“I am grateful that there are healers like you who walk with the vulnerable,” he said, catching Amy’s eye as she glanced in the rearview mirror. 

“Thank you,” she said softly, and he could hear the smile in her voice even if he couldn’t see it.

He glanced out the window as the car drove through an overpass. The sheer size of this city was unfathomable to him - the roads went off endlessly into the horizon.

The road they were on stretched out before them, and as the lights of the city softened behind them, Anduin decided that he was interested to discover where this road would lead.

———

Anduin fell asleep somewhere around Alliston, so I drove for two and a half more hours in silence.

Truth be told, I was glad. It gave me time to work out the rest of my plan.

We’d hide out at the cottage for as long as we could. The cottage was isolated and the lot was fairly private, so my hope was that Anduin could rest and recover away from prying eyes. Mom and Dad were in Nova Scotia, so I didn’t have to worry about them coming up and discovering me here with a very male, very handsome guest.

They were always telling me that I could bring friends up to the cottage whenever I wanted. I was just taking them up on their offer, really.

They always kept some clothes and food stocked here “in case something happens”, so I’d packed some groceries and water jugs to replenish their stores. Fresh food, fresh water, and enough clothes to last us for a couple weeks. Firewood out back. Propane in the shed. And a whole lot of sun and sand.

Anduin was going to love it here.

It was after midnight by the time I turned down the muddy forest road out to the lake. I’d originally hoped to stealth on the road through the woods, but it was a 20 km drive through dense forest without any lamps lighting the way. I couldn’t avoid using my headlights.

By the time we crossed the stone bridge over the creek, my eyes were tired, and as the lake view opened up in front of us, it was like my entire body sighed with relief. Home. The cottage felt like home. For a fleeting moment, I felt like my troubles had melted away, washed down the creek that ran through our land.

Home. We were safe. We made it. 

Even if Mrs. Jennings on the hill was going to bang on my porch door in the morning, complaining about headlights waking her up in the middle of the night. 

I turned around in the driver’s seat and placed a hand on Anduin’s knee. “Anduin, wake up,” I said, tapping him. “We’re here.”

He stirred, and I was glad I hadn’t badly startled him. His pale eyes opened and he blinked several times, glancing around the car before his eyes fell on me. He smiled. “Wonderful,” he said softly.

“I’ll come help you out of the car,” I said, unbuckling myself and shoving open the driver’s door with a foot. “But look out the window. This is where we’ll be staying.”

Anduin didn’t say anything. I told myself it was because he was so stunned by the lake’s beauty, but it was probably because he was so tired. I pulled my backpack out of the back seat before moving around to open Anduin’s door. 

“It might not look like much to you,” I said as I caught his pillow tumbling free, “but this is where I spent a lot of my childhood. Lots of land. Nice and quiet.” I placed a hand on his head to keep it from hitting the doorframe as I reached across him to undo his seatbelt. “I thought it’d be the perfect place for you to rest as we figure out what to do next.” 

As I pulled the seatbelt free, I turned to smile at him, and suddenly I was very aware of how close we were. My lips were inches from his. 

_Be professional, Amy,_ I said to myself. _Don’t think about how gorgeous he is. Don’t think about how disarming his eyes are. Don’t think about how soft his lips must be -_

“Damn it,” I said out loud, and as the words left my lips I had to keep my entire body from cringing at my own awkwardness. Anduin looked at me quizzically, but in typical Amy fashion, I broke his gaze and started babbling as I helped him out of the car - about the farm down the road, how the cows sometimes wander onto our land, how he should watch out for black bears because they sometimes wander by in the evenings…

I encouraged Anduin to lean on me as we crossed the driveway to the cottage, but I realized too late that having a 6-foot, 190 lb man leaning his weight on 5’5”, 120lb woman was a bad idea. 

I stumbled, but he caught me quickly and I just started laughing. This whole situation was absurd. Yet here we were.

Anduin asked if I was okay, but then he suddenly went silent, and I was worried I’d hurt him. But no - he was staring out over the lake, silver in the moonlight, and he had a faraway look in his eyes.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve seen stars this bright,” he said. “They looked nothing like this in the city.” He straightened up, but left an arm draped across my shoulders. “They always make me feel so small.”

“Hmm?”

“The stars,” he said, turning his face to the sky. “When I was a young man,” he mused, “a dear friend once told me to always remember how numerous are the stars.” He smiled sadly. “Our struggles are so small in comparison."

"It's hard to think of our planet as so small," I said, steering him towards the porch. "Er, my planet. But it is. Small, I mean. Even this solar system is just a speck in an infinite collection of stars.”

Anduin chuckled softly. “Then let us be two stars among infinity,” he said, finally looking down at me. “May our lives burn ever brightly.”

I could say nothing as beautiful as that, so I just smiled.


End file.
